Blood Red Was The Night
by NoBuddy
Summary: Sequel to Noone Nowhere. What happened to Genesis between Sephiroth's death in Nibelheim and Zack's escape four years later? What can come out of a clash between a grieving war angel and Chaos, the soul reaper?
1. Prologue

**A/N: This fic comes as a sequel to the previous one called "Noone nowhere". If you haven't read at least the first 5 chapters of that one, then it will be difficult for you to understand what's going on here, because it starts rather abruptly, taking the action from the very end of "NN" chapter 5 and showing what happens further on with some of the characters involved there too.**

**Music listened while writing this: Craig Armstrong – "Escape"**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them red sexy guys, nor anyone else from FF7; not even Hojo, lucky bastard! Geeez!!**

**BLOOD RED WAS THE NIGHT**

**Prologue**

_Call you up in the middle of the night  
Like a firefly without a light  
You were there like a blowtorch burning  
I was a key that could use a little turning_

Soul Asylum – "Runaway Train"

* * *

„NOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

- - -

The kid is howling.

- - -

OK, I don't know why I call him that. He's probably not far from the age I had when a certain individual messed me up – and biologically speaking I'm still there.

- - -

I kept an eye on him lately, between intermittent periods of slumber. I never made any contact with him though, but he seems to be aware of my presence here.

In the last few days I thought at some point that I heard him speaking with someone else too, but until then I had the impression that he was only talking to himself.

Oh yes, he used to do that a lot. Sometimes I found it rather annoying, but I didn't really blame him. This place gives everyone the creeps and I am probably responsible for that too, even if only partly.

A very small part though in my opinion. The major one comes courtesy of that greasy scarecrow who ruined my life and everyone else's who ever fell into his claws.

Makes me wonder if this kid isn't by any chance one of them too. What's about loneliness that scares him so bad?? He's howling songs day and night indiscriminately and – bah! – it's not that he sings bad. Amazingly enough, he doesn't. Damn, the kid sings so well in fact that he could make a career any time out of this. Only he takes the coolest songs I've ever heard and horribly slaughters their lyrics replacing them with endless variations of filthy swears aimed mostly at Hojo, old man Shinra and a Hollander guy whose name sounds somewhat familiar to me as well.

Not that I mind the cursing thing that much. To be in SOLDIER or the Turks, one has got to know at least the standard set of curses and he damn well knows them all. It's the way he aggravates my headaches with his never-ending blabbering while he keeps on rummaging through Hojo's useless piles of intellectual garbage that fill countless lines of shelves in the basement.

Hmpf! He won't find anything there, don't I know that already!

Yet this time it wasn't him who woke me up. Chaos had already reacted to the smell of fire and death, so I was wide awake.

I lay here in the dark with the lid of my box pushed aside and I inhaled the overpowering stench of blood and burnt corpses, while the smoke was steaming in the air, almost palpable even in the pitch blackness of my underground cell.

Chaos was squirming and churning down the deepest recesses of my being but I was still reluctant to move and see what was all about.

So what if the whole bloody world was burning outside?

Blast them all, it wasn't my damn business. They could go to hell altogether for all I cared, I was already there to greet them at the big less-than-pearly gates.

This whole wretched place could burn down to ashes, my time-traveling sarcophagus could handle that anytime. Oh, the joy of immortality! Bow to you Hojo, walking doom of my life!

How I wished at times that something in this hellish artifact would simply break down one day, turning me into a mere handful of dust before I even knew it...

Then the kid started to scream.

- - -

It made my hair stand on end.

Not the scream in itself. I was already more than used to his howls.

It was the unbearable grief that ripped the air coming with it and twisted something inside me, can't imagine what and why.

Before anything else, I found myself getting out of my box and now I am climbing the steep and rusty stairs leading to the library, one by one, my ragged cape sweeping every step with a sandy swoosh.

He's right there up the stairs, fallen on his knees, forehead almost hitting the floor.

Still howling.

„NOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

* * *

**Well, read and rip! Let's see if someone will be interested in finding out whatever it is to be found out from such an idea.**


	2. Chapter 1 Shattered worlds

**Music listened while writing this: still Craig Armstrong's "Escape"**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them red sexy guys, nor anyone else from FF7; not even Hojo, lucky bastard! Geeez!!**

**BLOOD RED WAS THE NIGHT**

**Chapter 1 – Shattered worlds**

_So tired that I couldn't even sleep  
So many secrets I couldn't keep  
I promised myself I wouldn't weep  
One more promise I couldn't keep_

Soul Asylum – „Runaway Train"

* * *

I lower myself on the floor next to him and I stretch my hand towards him hesitantly.

Something seems weird and utterly wrong about him and I can't even say what.

Both hands are thrust in his hair and his body has a slight rocking motion, as he's bent over his knees. The howling ceased, but a long, low wail leaves his lungs almost incessantly. He sounds like a deadly wounded animal.

What could possibly happen to him while being alone here? I've never heard someone wailing like this before.

Well, I'm still trying not to think how my own grief must have sounded when Chaos was dragging me from my coffin at night to roam the land, scaring the godsforsaken insomniacs.

Finally I put my hand on his shoulder and try to turn him around to see his face. And I freeze. My hand grows suddenly weak and almost falls from his shoulder as I stare at him feeling numb.

- - -

Suddenly I realize I've watched him every since he came here, I followed his movements and I listened to his rants, but I never really looked at him, not once.

The kid looks old.

Older than me.

Yet he can't be. He can't be!

- - -

White strands of hair fall over his face and his skin looks withered. And ashen, just like mine.

But I am dead.

And I am more than twice his age, yet he looks older than me.

This is completely wrong.

He shouldn't look like this.

... Hojo, is this one more of your dreadful deeds?...

- - -

The kid is all curled over himself now and shaking, head in his hands, staring towards me with a haunted look. But I don't think he really sees me.

He looks all lost, worn out and ill.

Finally I stretch my arm again to steady him before he collapses completely. And I bring it back hastily at my chest. Again. Burnt. My hand was burnt.

By tears.

They're flowing from his eyes, falling one by one on his red coat. Burning tears, leaving ashen marks on it, almost invisible wisps of smoke making the air tremble around them, the already foggy air, filled with the smoke of the fire outside. He doesn't seem to acknowledge them, he just goes on rocking back and forth.

I don't know what to do and I'm already fighting Chaos that turns inside me, excited by the masacre that has to be outside the manor. I don't want to let him take the lead, not as long as I can fight it; I would hate to be dragged again all over the land like a helpless doll watching from the inside.

Suddenly I feel tired and angry of all this and I grab the kid by both his shoulders and shake him hard.

„What happened to you?" I growl.

His head snaps up and he gapes at me as if noticing me only then. And he keeps gaping numbly at me with lifeless eyes, though tears flow ceaselessly from them.

Then he finally opens his mouth.

„I... killed him.", he chokes in a harsh whisper. „I... sent him there. And... now... he's dead."

Then he goes numb again.

Shiva, I don't have time for this!! Chaos is getting angrier by the moment, I can feel it!

I shake him mercilessly again and bark into his face.

„Pull yourself together, kid! Who died??"

He stares at me and suddenly a small spark lightens his vision in a dangerous way; as if he recognizes me somehow. Then he just laughs and I can feel my skin going up in goosebumps. It's the most miserable laugh I can remember hearing and it shatters my ears while pain explodes through his eyes like a raging train, darting at me.

„Your _son_, you stupid!! It's YOUR SON!! Sephiroth... is dead."

Then he just slides from my grasp and his head hits the floor.


End file.
